Swallow the Knife
by MoodyJenny86
Summary: Neville Longbottom has a secret...WARNING: This fic will be very dark and it may be triggering to some so read at your own risk! AU set during HBP...UPDATED & REVISED!
1. The Long walk back

**Authors Note:** This is a fic I originally wrote almost two years ago after the release of the GoF movie…(guess I was in an angsty!Neville mood afterwards, heh…if ya'll haven't noticed by now I'm such a whore for angsty!Neville!) and I kind of forgot about it for awhile and would just randomly come back to it and add up more chapters but I just recently came across this for like the hundredth time a few days ago after receiving some more reviews and I read through it and was unsatisfied with the way this fic had come along. I just felt that it wasn't long enough and that it could be better…so I revised it! I cut stuff out, added stuff in, you know the whole shebang and just ultimately made it a million times better. :) So now it is a little longer and there is more dialogue and character development going on, which I felt was absolutely necessary. Anyways, if any of you choose to re-read the fic from the beginning again I hope you like the changes I have made and I hope they have improved my fic for the better!

On a heavier note, this fic will be **very dark** and contain some **serious subject matter** and it may be** triggering** to some so please read at your own risk!

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**Swallow the Knife**

"_Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.__"_

_So our open wounds will bleed until our veins run dry.  
Now we have to take this thorn and tear it from our side.  
Agitated at the fault line still agree to disagree.  
You're connected to the heart but tonight will set you free._

_So swallow the knife.  
Carve the way for your pride.  
Now our hands are tied.  
The problems lie within.  
So we pray for night to start over again. _

_Even now as I write this down.  
Our pretensions disappear.  
Now our impulses will bite.  
At the ankles of our fear._

_So swallow the knife.  
Carve the way for your pride.  
Now our hands are tied.  
The problems lie within.  
So we pray for night to start over again._

_Now our hands are tied.  
The problems lie within.  
So we pray for night to start over again.  
(Words are spoken words are broken down.)__  
_

_**-'Swallow the Knife' by Story of the Year**_

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**Chapter 1:** The Long Walk Back

Harry lightly knocked Hermione's knee with his own under the table as she rolled her eyes at Ron and Lavender's ridiculous, baby talk.

Agitated, Hermione turned to face Harry and he gave her a look as if to say, _'Don't start anything…'_

A few moments passed and Ron finally tore his eyes away from Lavender and for almost the first time that evening, redirected his attention to Hermione.

"Hermione, what's the matter? You're being awfully quiet."

"Oh, I'm just thinking of things I need to do before classes resume tomorrow…" she replied.

"Won-Won, do you think you could get me some more tea? Oh, and maybe a few more of those chocolate covered strawberries?"

Hermione rolled her eyes again; she couldn't help it. Lavender always managed to find a way to bring any attention back onto her. Everything was always about her.

"You got it, Lav."

Hermione watched in a silent vehemence of disgust as Lavender's face lit up. Her green eyes were sparkling and fixed on Ron. Her mouth was wide open in a rather silly looking grin. All of her perfectly, white teeth were visible. Hermione wanted to knock them all out of her pretty little mouth.

Ron stood up and Lavender began to gather all of their dishes but when she reached for Hermione's plate, Hermione gently pulled it towards her and forced a smile.

"Oh, I'm not quite finished yet…"

"Alright then…" Lavender replied, seeming to be somewhat offended.

Lavender gathered the rest of the dishes and handed them to Ron.

"Thanks, Won-Won…oh, and could you also get another cinnamon bun...we can take it back to Hogwarts with us and eat it later while we're…well, we can just enjoy it later…" Lavender finished, beaming up at Ron.

"Alright, I'll be right back. Anyone else need anything?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine thanks," replied Harry.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, "need anything?"

'_Yeah, I need for you to keep stuffing your and Lavender's faces with more food so I don't have to listen to anymore of your mindless, baby babbling!'_

"No thank you, Ronald…"

Ron stood for a moment longer, giving Hermione a look as if to say, _'Suit yourself…' _or _'Hey, at least I offered…'_

After he left, Lavender let out a dreamy sigh and flipped her blonde hair back over her shoulder.

"Lovely time of year isn't it…?" she said to no one in particular.

"Uh, yeah…sure is," answered Harry.

"So, have you two been enjoying the break?" Lavender asked.

"No, I've had detention with Snape…this is the first taste of freedom I've had in a whole week…" Harry answered miserably.

"Oh…" began Lavender. "What about you Hermione?"

"Hmmm?" replied Hermione pretending as if she hadn't been paying any attention; which the truth of the matter was that she had heard Lavender loud and clear but quite frankly was more interested in counting to see how many people were in Honeydukes. After all, it was a small shop and it was a bit more crowded than usual, almost all of the tables were occupied.

Lavender frowned slightly, cleared her throat and then repeated herself.

"Have you enjoyed the break?"

"Oh, of course…why wouldn't I enjoy the break? I mean, just because I don't have anyone to snog senseless and happen to care about my studies doesn't mean that I can't enjoy a nice break once in awhile and make time for proper use of it. I have had a fantastic break and am saddened to see it end. Thank you for asking."

Lavender's frown slowly settled into something more of a blank stare and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing pink.

Harry stared at Hermione with his mouth slightly hanging open.

Just then, Ron returned to the table.

"Lav-Lav, Here is your tea. They were out of the cinnamon buns, those damn things sure go fast! So instead I grabbed a piece of this carrot cake…oh, and here are your chocolate covered strawberries…"

Just as Ron sat down, Lavender stood up.

"Thank you Won-Won. Listen, I'm just uh- going to go to the loo really quick and then I need to find Parvati and remind her of something…but I'll be right back."

She leaned down and gave him a peck on the mouth and then scampered off without another word.

Ron skeptically turned to face his two best friends who both shrugged in return.

"Well, she _has_ been drinking a lot of that tea…" Hermione suggested.

But Hermione knew very well that Lavender had not excused herself to go to the loo. How did she know this? Because she watched and silently rejoiced as she saw Lavender slip out through the backdoor exit, tugging along a cross looking Parvati behind her.

"Well, she better hurry," began Ron, sounding annoyed, "because I don't know how long I can sit here just staring at this food without eating any of it!"

"Then just eat it Ron…" replied Hermione. "After all, you payed for it…"

"How do you know I did?"

Hermione scoffed and took a sip of her butterbeer.

"C'mon, Ron…she's got you completely wrapped around her little finger…you buy everything for her and anything she wants, she gets. If she came back and asked you to run outside naked and make snow angels you'd do it!"

Harry began choking on his butterbeer and tried to hide his amusement.

The redhead blushed.

"Oh, you think that's funny do you?" Ron replied, turning to his raven-haired friend. "You're supposed to be on _my_ side!"

Ron paused and then turned to confront Hermione.

"And I would _not_! I've got too much dignity for something like that…"

The trio sat in silence for the next few minutes, but it wasn't one of those awkward silences where everyone was uncomfortable and wanted to say something but refrained from doing so because they were waiting and hoping that someone else would.

The trio had a certain bond to where they could sit in silence and be content.

Eventually, Harry and Ron began to talk about quidditch and Hermione soon found herself to be very bored. She began counting the heads of everyone in Honeydukes and came up with twenty-nine.

Finally, Ron spoke to her.

"What's the matter with you anyways?" he began, watching his bushy haired friend closely. "You've been acting weird ever since we got here and you have barely said anything all night…well, you've said less than you normally do anyways…"

'_Oh, I've said a few things alright…too bad you weren't here to hear them firsthand…' _

A ghost of a smile played at her lips as she thought back earlier to her response when Lavender asked if she was enjoying the break. Which, now that she thought about it, what she said to Lavender had seemed pretty rude and a teensy sliver of guilt began to set in. Since after all, it had been on account of what she said that had driven Lavender off but at the same time Hermione felt relieved that she was gone.

Hermione let her smile falter and instead let out a simple sigh.

"It's nothing Ron, I'm just tired."

"Well, you damn well should be! Staying up half the night just to finish that Transfiguration essay…and it's not even due for another week…_and _we've been on break!"

"I just wanted to get it out of the way," replied Hermione with a shrill yawn.

"Well, do you want to head back to Hogwarts and rest for a bit? We wouldn't mind- I mean not that we don't want you here or anything but if you're tired then you should rest," added Harry.

"Yeah, I think I might do that. I'm suddenly not feeling too well. Right, well I'll see you guys later then," replied Hermione, as she got up and began gathering her things.

"What's wrong?" Ron suddenly questioned, placing his mug down, eyeing Hermione with concern.

"Oh, well, I've just got a bit of a errr- well it's just a slight headache…probably from all that studying I did last night. I think if I just lay down I'll be okay…"

"Do you want one of us to walk you back to the dorms?" asked Harry.

"Oh no, I'll be fine. You guys just have fun and enjoy the last of the break…"

"You sure?" Harry asked again.

"Positive. I'll be just fine."

"Yeah, we shouldn't be here too long. So we'll come and check on you in a bit," replied Ron after a long swig of butterbeer.

"Right then, see you in a bit."

Hermione made her way out of Honeydukes and began walking back towards Hogwarts.

Hermione hadn't _completely_ lied to Harry and Ron. She really _was_ tired. She had made up the part involving the headache and she didn't even really know why she had made that up. It just kind of happened.

As much as she enjoyed Harry and Ron's company she just found that she didn't want to be there with them anymore; at least not with_ Lav-Lav _hovering around, sitting there with her high-pitched giggling and constant love-struck glances at Ron.

Hermione felt drained- physically, emotionally and intelligently; and she had only been in the presence of Lavender Brown for a little over an hour and that was simply all she was able to stand.

Hermione moved slowly taking in the scenery as she walked.

It was the middle of October and everything was covered in a light frost. Hermione shivered and hugged her coat tighter around her body, zipping it up as far as it would go.

Hermione listened to the sounds of her haggard breathing and the soft crunch of the ground beneath her feet. She let out a low sigh and watched as her breath escaped from her lips in small, narrow puffs.

The cold air sliced away at the exposed skin on her face, causing her to feel nothing but a numb and stinging sensation burning throughout her entire body.

Hermione's thoughts quickly returned to Ron. As if things weren't confusing enough already between her and Ron! She let out another low sigh and continued walking.

'_What's so great about Lavender?'_ Hermione thought to herself bitterly.

'_Sure she's good looking but she's as dumb as a sack of dung and Ron's just so shallow that he doesn't care about that…Ha! They're a perfect match!' _

Finally when Hogwarts came within close view Hermione picked up her pace and began walking faster, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets.

When she finally reached Hogwarts grounds she broke out into a slow jog for the rest of the way.

Hermione exhaled slowly, relieved to feel the instant warmth of Hogwarts welcome her. She pulled off her cap and gloves and slowly unzipped her coat and made her way to the Gryffindor House.

"Password?" the fat lady called out bleakly. She was filing her nails and appeared rigidly bored.

"Flickerstick."

The portrait flung itself open and Hermione entered into the Gryffindor common room. She was about to make her way up to the girls' dormitories until she heard someone cough quietly.

'_I thought everyone was at Hogsmeade…'_ Hermione thought to herself.

Whoever it was, obviously hadn't yet detected that they were no longer alone because their head was turned the opposite direction and was unmoving.

Hermione gently set her cap, gloves and coat aside and tiptoed over towards whoever was sitting in front of the fireplace. She didn't want to startle whoever it was, just in case they had fallen asleep but she was curious as to see who it was. So Hermione crept over to the armchair and stood behind it, she slowly peered over it and let out a stifled gasp.

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**Authors Note: **Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Review and let me know :)


	2. Neville's not so secret secret

**Chapter 2:** Neville's Not So Secret, Secret

It was Neville. He was sitting silently in an armchair positioned right in front of the cackling fire.

He had his head down and he was holding a knife, a _bloody_ knife.

Hermione watched in dismay as he made three perfectly aligned cuts on his left arm. One cut after the other, with evenly measured strokes.

"Neville!"

Hermione watched as he jumped in alarm. He quickly jerked his head around to face Hermione, who was standing behind the armchair staring down at him open-mouthed.

Without a sound she continued to gaze in horror at the sight displayed in front of her.

Hermione's eyes slowly traveled from Neville's shocked, pale face to his arms, which were covered with more viciously bleeding cuts. Then her eyes moved to the knife he was holding in his right hand and finally back up to his face again, which looked as if all the blood had drained from it.

Neville quickly shoved the knife out of Hermione's sight and pushed down his robe sleeves, flinching noticeably as the fabric caught on his cuts but it was already too late, Hermione had seen everything.

"H-H-Hermione…w-what are you doing back so s-soon? I t-thought you were at Hogsmeade with everyone else?" Neville whispered, his voice shaking.

"I wasn't feeling well so I decided to come back…" replied Hermione still staring down at Neville in shock.

Aside from the soft, cackling of the fire, the room suddenly filled with an uneasy silence.

"Neville…" started Hermione warily. She was beginning to feel lightheaded from what she had just witnessed. Also, the fact that she had never been a big fan of blood didn't help matters any.

"Hermione, look…I-I know w-what you must be t-thinking but it isn't what it looks like…honest…"

"Well, then what is it? Please explain this to me," Hermione replied with utter confusion.

"Look, can we just forget this ever happened and just continue on about things like we normally would?" Neville pleaded softly, staring down at his hands.

"Neville! How am I supposed to just forget this ever happened? I just walked in on you slicing yourself with an_ enormous_ dagger! Kind of a hard image to erase, let alone the type of event you can just forget about…"

Hermione walked around and sat herself down in the armchair next to Neville's. Further silence washed over the Gryffindor common room and it was even more agonizing than the silence before.

Hermione didn't know what to say. She was too shaken up, so she opted instead to just observe Neville closely.

Neville saw her watching him out of the corner of his eye and he began to writhe in his chair.

"Why?" Hermione asked simply. "Why would you do something like this to yourself?"

"I don't know…" answered Neville softly, feeling an instant chill run down his spine followed by a wave of nausea creeping up on him.

"You don't know? Well then how long? How long has this been going on?"

Once again Neville began shifting unnervingly in his seat. He turned his head away from Hermione to glance at the grandfather clock standing behind them.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

"Neville?" Hermione replied firmly. "Answer my question."

"Oh, I don't know Hermione, why does it even matter?"

"It _does_ matter. So tell me."

"I don't know…for awhile now…"

"How long is _awhile_?" Hermione prompted.

Neville shot Hermione a desolate glare and folded his arms across his chest.

It was quite clear that he didn't want to talk.

Hermione sighed and let her eyes wander to his arms, which he had already covered up, but she began to wonder what else, if anything, Neville Longbottom hid underneath of his robes.

"Neville, I- well, have you ever talked to somebody about this? Because if you haven't then I think you should really consider it…"

"No! No- I mean…I-I don't want anyone to know about this. Hermione…you can't tell anyone about this. Please, just promise me you'll try to forget everything and we can both get on with our lives…"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She stared deep into Neville's troubled brown eyes. His eyes, she noted, were possibly at the moment, the saddest pair of eyes she had ever looked into. His eyes were dark, blood-shot, and pleading desperately with her to keep his devastating secret.

She hadn't taken into account until just now how rapidly Neville's appearance had deteriorated over more recent months. He had purple shadows shaped like crescent moons forming underneath of his eyes.

His hair was long and unkempt and hung limply in his face. Also, he no longer held the shape of a stout and pudgy boy; instead the boy in front of Hermione now was frail, gaunt and clearly haunted. He looked as if one strong gust of wind would blow him away. As if one more personal tragedy would break him into millions of tiny little pieces.

Hermione continued to stare hard at Neville, unblinkingly. Suddenly she was hit with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Out of all six years she had known Neville, she realized she never really made much of an effort to get to know him like she did with some of the others.

Sure she knew the basics, like his name, birthday, and his favorite food but she didn't _really_ know him. Seeing the pain in Neville's eyes made Hermione come to the realization that Neville was more than just a geeky, push-over who everyone seemed to bully around and underestimate. He was more than just the round-faced, shy, quiet, clumsy and forgetful scared little boy who always seemed to be screwing up.

Everyone was always so busy and caught up in their own lives that no one ever really took much notice of Neville, _ever_. Sure his housemates would exchange a friendly hello here and a couple of sentences there or even the occasional game of exploding snap.

Sometimes they would include him in conversations about quidditch and let him tag along on a trip to Hogsmeade, making him feel like he was part of the group, but still, no one ever _really_ noticed him. He always sort of faded into the background, always keeping to himself. Hermione silently scolded herself for not paying more attention to Neville over these past six years.

"Hermione?" Neville whispered, bringing Hermione back to reality.

"So then, can we just keep this between us? Please?"

"Neville…you really should talk to someone about this. It isn't healthy…"

"Hermione it's no big deal. I've got it under control."

"Neville, there are so many things that could happen…you could-" Hermione stopped herself and took a deep breath, "you could…do serious harm to your body, even more serious than the harm that you have already caused."

"I'm always careful."

"But you could-" Hermione stopped herself again, "you could _cut_ yourself too deeply or you could hit a vein…" Hermione for some reason had a hard time saying the word cut in this context and apparently Neville felt the same way seeing as how he winced when she said it.

"Well, I don't do this very often…so it's alright."

"How often do you?"

"Why?"

Hermione sighed.

"I'm just curious…"

Neville looked at her and opened his mouth to answer but said nothing.

"I mean, is this like an everyday thing?" Hermione asked him.

"No…"

"How have you managed to hide something like this for so long…?" began Hermione, more to herself than to Neville. "I just don't understand…"

Hermione truly didn't understand. She had always thought that she was good at reading people and noticing things that everyone else overlooked which is what made her wonder how she could have missed this. How could she have not seen the signs?

She felt as if she had failed as a friend. She had always somewhat kept an eye out for Neville, beginning back in their first year, since no one else seemed to. And she was always encouraging him and helping him out of sticky situations but apparently none of that was enough. It pained her to see how badly he was hurting right now.

With her, she always had Harry and Ron who picked up instantly when something was bothering her. She always had them to confide in. They were always there to comfort and protect her. Lavender had Parvati, Dean had Seamus and who did Neville have? No one; he had no one. Hermione suddenly began to feel sick to her stomach.

Suddenly her mind flashed back to their first year when Neville attempted to stand up to her, Harry and Ron when they went on their quest for the Sorcerer's stone and she had stunned him. She knew that that was what she had to do at the time but suddenly she began to wonder how long he had to lay there before anyone even discovered him.

Then her mind flashed forward three years later when Neville had asked her to the Yule ball. She knew it must have taken him weeks or even months to muster up enough courage to ask her but she had already been asked by Viktor Krum. The look on Neville's face after she politely declined his invitation had been similar to that of Buckbeak after he learned he was to be executed in their third year.

Hermione hated to admit it, but for the longest time she had seen Neville as, well, there was no better way to put it, but she had always seen him as a nuisance. Sort of like a piece of lint stuck to your robes that you kept brushing off but it simply wouldn't budge.

Neville always followed them around, trying to see what they were doing and listen to what they were saying and she began to find him rather irritating. She felt as if he was always getting in the way of what her, Harry and Ron needed to do.

Hermione hated herself for even thinking such things about Neville, even if this had been when she was younger. Especially since she had been just like Neville at one time, before Harry and Ron saved her from the troll in their first year and took her in.

She was always trailing behind them like a shadow, trying so hard to get in on what they had. They saw her as this bossy, know-it-all brat when in reality, all she had wanted was a friend…and she got _two_. Whereas Neville…he just got pushed aside.

Neville had always been such a good friend to everyone; he was honest, kind and loyal. He never caused any trouble (deliberately at least), he never shot down anyone's opinions; he gave everyone a fair chance and treated everyone with the utmost respect. He never held grudges or raised his voice to anyone.

She thought back to their fourth year when Harry's name had been pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, Neville had been one of the only people who believed that he didn't put his own name in.

Then in their fifth year when everyone shunned Harry and accused him of lying about Lord Voldemort's return, Neville had stuck by him. And later that same year Neville, along with Luna and Ginny had accompanied her, Harry and Ron to battle Death Eaters head on, knowing that that might be the last thing they ever do. Neville would have never done such a thing the year before.

Neville had changed so much and grown more confident in his magic when the D.A. formed, yet no one really noticed; that is until he risked getting himself killed and ended up being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. It took for_ that_ to happen for anyone to acknowledge that he would have willingly sacrificed his own life that night to protect his friends.

Neville had been the only one left standing beside Harry that night and yet afterwards, it was Harry who got all of the credit. It was Harry who got all of the attention; he was the _Boy Who Lived_, the object of everyone's affection.

Neville always tried so hard and put his whole heart into helping others. Now, Hermione felt that it was her turn to help him.

She snapped out of her thoughts and turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Hermione this isn't something I'm proud of…I'm sorry you had to see…"

"I just want to understand, Neville…why you are doing this?"

"It's complicated and you wouldn't get it."

"I'm not a mind reader Neville. I can't even begin to understand if you won't tell me…"

When Neville didn't reply, Hermione continued.

"Neville, I honestly think you should go talk to Dumbledore…" she paused, "he could help you. You should also go have Madame Pomfrey take a look at those…well, your hem, arms…" she finished awkwardly.

"No. Really Hermione, just promise me you won't tell anyone!"

"I can't do that Neville and if you don't talk to Dumbledore or _someone _about this…then I will."

"Hermione, please! Please, just- if Dumbledore finds out about this…he'll tell my Gran and this would just kill her! She already has enough going on in her life! She doesn't need me adding on to it. Please, Hermione I'm begging you…"

Hermione saw that Neville was on the verge of tears. He bit his lip and quickly looked down at the floor. He swiftly brought his hands up to his head and began rocking himself back and forth, like a small, frightened child.

"Neville?" called Hermione softly. "It's okay…I won't tell anyone…"

At this Neville slowly lifted his head up, looking relieved. He began running his hands through his long, messy, brown hair.

"So I have your word?" he questioned.

"Yes…but only on two conditions. You have to promise me that you won't ever do this again, because if I ever find out that you did…I _will _tell Dumbledore."

"Alright and the second thing?" asked Neville.

"Well, since you won't go to Madame Pomfrey then I want you to let me see. I don't want you to get an infection or anything. I can try to heal your arms and maybe even reduce the scarring a bit."

Neville seemed hesitant and tense at this suggestion.

"I don't know Hermione…" he began, holding his arms protectively to his chest.

"Neville," coaxed Hermione sternly, "this is the only way I'll agree to keep this between us. You have to promise me that you'll never hurt yourself again and then I'll promise not to tell. You keep your deal and I'll keep mine…so are we set?"

Neville nodded.

"Alright now, let me have a look…" Hermione said as she lightly tugged on the sleeves of his robes.

Neville slowly pushed his sleeves up and Hermione lightly grabbed an arm and began healing his wounds. Though little did Hermione know that Neville had the fingers on his other hand crossed the entire time.

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**Author's Note:** Okay so there's Chapter 2, read & review please! Reviews make me happy :)


	3. The next day

**Chapter 3:** The Next Day

"One more minute," drawled Professor Snape as he ever so slowly paced around the dungeon, scanning the room with his beady, black eyes.

Everyone began hurriedly adding in the last of the ingredients to their potions.

"Anyone who fails to come up with the proper antidote is to write a five thousand word essay on the history of the Veritaserum potion. Including its discovery, its uses, its ingredients and thoroughly detailed, step by step instructions on how to properly prepare and brew it…"

Snape was then met with groans from the entire class.

"Silence. You will all stand behind your cauldrons and wait until I come by to certify your work. Then you may begin clean up."

Snape had quickly gone around the room, inspecting everyone's work when he finally reached Harry.

"Well, well…what have we here Mr. Potter?"

Harry could feel the anger boiling underneath of his skin but for his own sake he gritted his teeth and refrained from saying anything. After all, he had only just served his last bout of detention for Snape the night before and he didn't feel like starting all over.

"Answer me Potter, don't just stand there."

Harry kept his gaze steady on the dungeon room floor making sure he was somewhat collected before coolly looking up at Snape.

"It's the counter reactant to Veritaserum…_sir_," replied Harry callously.

"Well, I can clearly see that Potter but it looks like your foolish ignorance has lead you to forget the most important ingredient…and had you been listening to me you wouldn't have forgotten it. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week of detention, beginning tonight immediately after dinner."

"But Professor-"

Before Harry could say anything more he was instantly silenced by Hermione's hand squeezing his arm and yanking him back into place.

"Also, what on earth did you think you were doing when you added _gnanite bile_ to your potion?"

"Errr, I don't know sir."

"Idiot boy, of course you don't know," Snape hissed venomously and with a quick swick of his wand Harry's cauldron emptied.

"Have that essay in to me by tomorrow night at eight o'clock."

Professor Snape continued to tower over Harry and glare at him for a few moments longer before he eventually stepped away and began pacing around the room to examine everyone else's potions.

"As we've all just seen from Mr. Potter on what _not_ to do, the Veritaserum antidote should be colorless and odorless. It should appear as though it is nothing more than water."

Harry couldn't believe how horrible his first day back from the week long break was starting but leave it to Snape and it's possible. Which his break was actually quite enjoyable, obviously not counting the long, dreadful hours spent with Snape in detention.

Harry turned his attention to Ron, who was standing behind his cauldron with a rather panicky expression on his face. As Snape walked by him he began furiously stirring his potion, his cheeks blotched as red as his hair with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, which fell into his potion and sizzled loudly.

"Weasley, your time is up!"

Snape flicked his wand and the contents of Ron's cauldron emptied.

"You are to have that essay in by tomorrow night at eight o'clock. Make sure it isn't late. I don't think you can afford having another incomplete potion."

The Slytherins began snickering and Ron looked furious but managed to hold his tongue.

Snape stopped abruptly in front of Neville's table.

"_Green_ Longbottom? Did I not just say that the Veritaserum antidote was supposed to be colorless?"

"Yes sir…" Neville muttered miserably without looking up.

"Look at me, boy! Why in Salazar Slytherin's name is yours green?"

"Well, I added some _toffatt taffey leaves_ and…"

"Yes, I can see that but _why_? Oh, never mind why! It is now quite obvious to me as to why Potter's potion was a disaster as well. Tell me boy, just when do you think anything of importance is going to sink into that thick skull of yours? Fifty points from Gryffindor and you'll be joining Mr. Potter here tonight after dinner...along with writing that essay."

Just as Snape pulled out his wand to empty Neville's cauldron, Neville felt a sharp, throbbing pain in his head and it caused him to jerk, which knocked over his cauldron and the contents of it, which smelled rather putrid, spilled all over Snape.

"LONGBOTTOM!"

"Oh! I'm s-sorry Professor!" Neville cried out, reaching for his knocked over cauldron. "Here, let me-"

"Leave it!" Snape shouted, swatting Neville's hand away. "You've caused enough damage already…" Snape began wringing out his wet robes. He then leaned down, resting his elbows on Neville's table and his black eyes, which were reduced to mere slits, bore into Neville, "maybe if you cleared out that unessential layer of puss surrounding your meager brain you would actually be able to do something worthwhile with your time; but instead, you continue to waste mine…"

Snape stood up and muttered something under his breath about Neville being hopeless.

The Slytherins all began to snicker even more loudly and Neville blushed furiously. He officially wanted to die; either that or just disappear off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again. He was used to Snape humiliating him in class but it had never been this bad.

"Another fifty points from Gryffindor. Class dismissed."

And with that Snape muttered a spell under his breath and all of his materials effortlessly flew to him. He turned and swiftly walked out, his black cape swooshing and leaving a long, wet trail of Neville's failed potion behind him.

Everyone quickly began filtering out of the dungeon except for Harry, Hermione and Neville. When Ron saw that they weren't following he turned around.

"Oi! Are you coming or what?"

"I can't believe it!" Harry moaned. "I just finished a week's worth of detention with Snape last night! Now I have to do it all over again!"

"Harry, I-I'm really sorry…I have no idea what I was thinking telling you to add those things…" Neville stuttered, staring down at his feet in defeat.

"It's okay Neville," replied Harry reassuringly, "at least I'll have some company this time around…"

'_What was I thinking?'_ Harry's brain kept shouting.

Harry could kick himself for listening to Neville in the first place, what with potions being one of Neville's worst subjects and all.

"C'mon, let's go before Snape comes back." Ron replied glancing nervously back at the open doors.

Harry gathered up his things and walked over to Ron.

"Are you coming or not?" Ron asked impatiently to Hermione and Neville.

"Just go. I'll catch up with you both later." Hermione responded sharply.

Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled glances and finally left.

"Neville, are you okay?"

"I can't believe I got Harry into trouble and he'd _just_ gotten out of detention with Snape as well…"

"Don't worry about it. It's Harry's own fault for not paying enough attention in the first place…"

Hermione let a long, sharp breath of air escape her lips, blowing her bangs up off of her forehead.

"Listen Neville; is there anything you'd like to talk about? Concerning last night…"

"No," he quickly replied, looking over at her.

"Well, then just do me a favor and don't let Snape get to you any more…just think, one more year and you might never have to see him again."

"As comforting as the thought of never having to see Snape ever again is, I doubt that will happen, not with my luck anyways."

"People's luck can change," Hermione assured him.

"Yeah, the ones who are _just_ lucky enough," Neville answered quietly.

The sharp, painful throbbing in his head had returned and it was even worse this time around.

Neville brought a hand up to his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Neville? What's wrong?"

"_Head…ache_," he replied through clenched teeth.

"Here, c'mon let me walk you to the hospital wing…"

"No, just- I think it'll be okay. I just need a minute."

"Neville, are you sure? You look like you're in a lot of pain…"

Neville was in a lot of pain. He couldn't think of a time where he had experienced any physical pain more significant than what he was feeling at that precise moment, other than when Bellatrix Lestrange had cast the Cruciatus curse on him at the Department of Mysteries last year of course. His vision was beginning to blur and he felt as if he was going to pass out at any moment.

He began to take long, deep breaths. His eyes were watering and tears began to spill out of the corners of his eyes.

"Alright, Neville…that's it. I'm taking you to the hospital wing."

"No…wait…it's starting to go away…"

And it did. Neville felt the pressure in his head begin to lessen and all of the pain gradually began to lift. He still felt a little dizzy though, but as long as his head no longer felt as if it would explode at any moment he would live.

"I still think you should go see Madame Pomfrey…" insisted Hermione.

"I'm fine now."

"No, you aren't…how long have you been getting these headaches?"

"I've always had headaches, they just come and go…tend to be worse the more stressed out I am…"

"You need to start taking better care of yourself…" Hermione warned him.

Neville mumbled something under his breath and sat down on the dungeon room floor, not even caring at the moment if Snape walked back inside.

Hermione hesitated and ultimately sat down next to him.

"Hermione, you don't have to stay here with me…I'm okay."

"I want to."

Neville sighed and let his head fall into his hands.

"I wish I wasn't such an idiot…" he mumbled into his hands.

"Neville, don't say that."

"It's true. I always manage to screw things up…I should have _never_ told Harry to add those things…I just- I swear I read in one of my herbology books that the excrement of _gnanite bile_ can be used in almost any potion…to help stabilize the other ingredients…"

"I think I've read that somewhere as well…but you know how demanding Snape is about his potions…you have to prepare and brew it _exactly_ as he wants otherwise he considers it inadequate and marks it as an incomplete..."

"Harry wouldn't even have a detention right now if it weren't for me..."

"He'll get over it, Neville…you need to just let it go. You made a mistake, so what? We all make mistakes…you can't keep dwelling on all of the negative things in your life…"

"Snape is right…I'm hopeless."

Hermione sighed in frustration.

"No, you aren't…the only reason you aren't doing as well as you could is because you don't expect anymore from yourself; you don't allow yourself to do better. I know you are better than this, Neville. I know you can do so much better and a lot of the professors know you can as well. You just need to believe that you can do it. You need to believe in yourself because when you don't, you won't succeed or live up to your full potential."

Neville said nothing.

"You've already proven that you were placed in the right House…what you did last year at the Department of Mysteries and what you _went_ through…only a true Gryffindor could do that. You are brave, Neville and you have so much potential and I know that somewhere, deep down inside of you there is a truly great wizard waiting to come out, and we all got to see a glimpse of that wizard last year during the D.A. and at the Department of Mysteries, but you need to believe in yourself in order to become that wizard...and when you do you will go on to do amazing things."

"Thanks Hermione…"

"Well," she began, "we had better go ahead and get out of here before Snape _does _come back…"

"Yeah, I guess we better."

"If you want, I'll help you study later." Hermione offered, as she and Neville walked out of the dungeon doors.

"Thanks Hermione but tonight isn't a very good night for me…I think I am just going to go lay down. Right then, I guess I'll see you later."

And before Hermione could even respond, Neville was gone.

---------------------------------

**Authors Note:** Holy Crap! lol, sorry for the long hiatus! I just kind of wrote this story awhile ago, submitted it and forgot about it…but seeing that people actually liked it and wanted an update I recently decided, hey what the hell! But yeah, so hopefully I can get back into the swing of things and get chapter 4 up soon! Again, sorry for the ridiculously long delay, lol…things happen, like school and such and you just get distracted…lol I'm sure many of you can relate! Anyways, read & review please! More reviews would be lovely...:)


	4. Gone

**Chapter 4:** Gone

Neville appreciated Hermione waiting with him after potions and her overall concern for him. She had tried to cheer him up but he was just too down on himself to accept any kind of positive reinforcement.

All he wanted now was to numb away the intolerable agony he was feeling. He needed to release all of the toxins running through his veins before it poisoned him, before it became the death of him.

A sudden rush of dominant and negative emotions began surging through Neville. He felt ashamed, angry, sad, and humiliated all at the same time and it was gut wrenching. His mind was racing and he rapidly felt a deep sensation of nausea rising through his stomach, threatening to come up at any given second.

The events that had just occurred in potions, while not uncommon for him, was the last straw. Not only had he once again screwed up another potion and lost more points for Gryffindor, he had gotten Harry into trouble and earned both of them detention. Which Neville had already decided that while he deserved his, Harry didn't.

He slowly trudged up to the boys' dormitories, managing to trip twice along the way and flopped down on his bed. On top of everything else that was going wrong in his life he now had to face detention with Snape after dinner. Just thinking about the things Snape would force him and Harry to do made Neville even more sick to his stomach.

For the next hour Neville just lay in bed, pondering his life, reliving every mistake that he's ever made and wishing that things could be different. Eventually all feelings were emptied from his mind, except for one. An intense feeling of sadness that he could not seem to shake still lingered within him.

_Dim-wit, pathetic, failure, hopeless, squib._ These were all words he would use to describe himself. These words echoed in his brain until eventually they lost all meaning and they were nothing more than just words he happened to know very well.

This past week's events kept replaying over and over in his head. Every stumble, every screw up, every bad grade, every failed attempt to function normally without making a fool of himself. Familiar feelings of shame, anger and humiliation began to wash over him again, it was overpowering. He sat up and slowly reached for the small oak dresser by his bed. He opened the top drawer and pulled out his knife.

For several minutes, Neville just sat on his bed, clutching the knife to his chest not doing anything; in fact he couldn't bring himself to do anything because he kept hearing Hermione's voice in his head. He thought about the conversation they had the night before and what he had promised her.

'_But I had my fingers crossed…'_

Neville was having some conflicting thoughts and feelings of guilt. Hermione had always been a good friend to him. Always helping him out in classes when she didn't have to; always showing concern for him when no one else did.

After all, it was Hermione who first offered to help him find Trevor on the Hogwarts express in their first year; it was Hermione who yelled for Professor Moody, or in actuality Barty Crouch Jr., to stop torturing the spider in Defense Against the Dark Arts in their fourth year. It was her who had asked Neville, who was so shaken up from having actually witnessed the Cruciatus curse, the curse that did his parents in, performed right in front of him, if he was alright after the lesson.

He scooted up into a more comfortable sitting position and held the knife up so he could examine it up close. He had found the knife years ago up in the attic in a box of his father's old things that his Gran had shoved away to be forgotten.

Neville had always wanted to know more about his parents and what better way to do that than to explore the Longbottom residence where his father had grown up? But that wasn't an option. Neville used to ask his Gran if he could go have a look up in the attic and sort through the stuff to see if he could find anything of interest, possibly something that could give him a feel of what his parents were like. _Anything_, whether it be photographs, his dad's journals, clothes, books but his Gran wouldn't have it.

She would simply tell Neville that the attic was off limits and not to keep meddling her about such trivial things while suggesting that visiting them at St. Mungo's was enough; but visiting them at St. Mungo's wasn't enough for Neville, that wasn't enough to satisfy him. It wasn't enough to answer his burning questions or his growing curiosity of what kind of people his parents had been before they were tortured.

Neville sighed and rotated the knife in his hands. He wondered where his dad got the knife, if he had bought it himself or if it was a gift. Why he had it and what he used it for.

Neville had asked his Great Uncle Algie about the knife once after his Gran had left to go visit some of her friends and all he said was, _"I haven't a clue where Frankie got that knife but he was as attached to that thing as a Dog to a bone…he never left the house without it…"_

Neville wanted answers so on a trip to Hogsmeade recently he took the knife to a pawn shop to see if the owner knew anything about it.

"_Ahhh, a very fine looking dagger that is you've got there, boy…rare too," _the owner of the shop had told him. _"It's a Dragon Talon Silver double edged, stainless steel blade with a silver antique finish and a handle made of genuine dragon hide…now tell me, where did you get this, boy?"_

If his Gran were to ever find out that Neville had gone up into the attic without her permission, let alone against her wishes since she didn't want him up there in the first place, he would_ never_ hear the end of it.

It was a pity too because there were a lot of interesting things up there from what Neville could see. He wasn't up there very long because he was afraid that his Gran would arrive home to find him missing and then if she found out he was snooping in the attic she'd have a fit and he just didn't want to have to deal with that. He had decided that he would go back up there again sometime, when his Gran would be gone and occupied for more than just a couple of hours.

The more he stared at the knife the more inviting it became.

'_Use me…'_ It beckoned to him.

Neville continued rotating the knife in his hands. He could see himself in the shiny blade, he was lost in it. He could literally feel the biting tip of the dagger's tooth slowly piercing his skin. He could feel all of his anguish rise out from underneath his skin and evaporate into thin air. He could see all of his burdens fading away with each drop of blood that spilled from the thin, red cuts he made.

He already felt a tremendous amount of relief just thinking about it.

Neville couldn't help himself, he shouldn't have made a promise he knew he couldn't keep. He took a deep breath, pushed back his sleeves and lowered the knife but before he could do anything he was interrupted by swelling voices just outside of the dorms. Someone was yelling. Neville immediately froze and listened closely.

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH- TRAITOR!"

"HA! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD! Or do you? Well, you might not…but I bet your father would know…"

There was a harrowing moment of dead silence before Dean's voice bellowed out.

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH ABOUT MY FATHER!"

"Oh, I see I've struck a nerve."

"TAKE IT BACK SEAMUS!"

"Why should I! You were the one who started all of this by running your damn mouth about _my_ family when you shouldn't have!"

Seamus and Dean continued to holler at one another until there was a loud crash.

"YOU BASTARD!"

Suddenly Seamus burst into the boys' dormitories, closely followed by Dean who leaped and tackled Seamus from behind, throwing him to the floor with a loud thud.

What they were saying was completely unintelligible and was coming out mostly in grunts. They continued wrestling on the floor until Harry and Ron flew in. Harry grabbed Dean, who was still swiping his fists furiously, and yanked him off of Seamus, whose face had drained of all blood and he now appeared almost as pastel as a Weasley.

"Let me go Harry!" Dean grumbled, trying desperately to get out of Harry's grip.

"Ron, take Seamus out of here," replied Harry more simply than one would have thought, considering he was using all of his energy to hold back Dean.

Ron grabbed Seamus and escorted him out of the dorms. Dean then freed himself from Harry's resilient hold and glared at the two remaining Gryffindors, as if challenging them to make a move or to make some kind of remark. Harry and Neville remained quiet.

"_And you_…" began Dean, slowly advancing towards Neville's bed with his finger pointed at him threateningly. "I've seen the way you look at Ginny…the way you are a little too eager to go up and talk to her whenever she's alone…you just stay away from her."

Neville opened his mouth to reply but the words didn't come out right away.

"Dean, I would never…I-I would never…do that…"

"Yeah, well, see to it that you don't," growled Dean.

With one last furious shake of his fist and a swift punch in the wall, Dean straightened himself and stormed out of the dorm.

"Wow," started Harry, "errr, sorry you had to see that…do you know what it is they were fighting about?" he finished, completely failing to mention Dean's threat to Neville about Ginny.

Neville didn't speak, he couldn't. Just the thought of him almost being caught in the act _again_ had damn near paralyzed him. Also, the fact that Dean had just threatened him didn't improve matters any. Fortunately enough for him, Dean and Seamus were too caught up in their fight to even notice Neville was there at first, which was nothing out of the ordinary.

Harry narrowed his eyes on Neville.

"You alright there mate? You don't look so good…did they getch'a?"

"Huh?" Neville replied clueless, looking up at Harry.

"Dean and Seamus…when they were fighting?"

"Oh, no…it just all happened so fast I didn't even have time to react…I mean I would have tried and stop them but…"

"It's alright," replied Harry, giving Neville a small grin.

Neville mentally scolded himself for not doing anything, for not jumping in. For leaving Harry and Ron to handle everything.

_Useless_. Another word to add to his list.

"You sure you're alright?" Harry asked again, only softer this time.

"Yeah."

"Right then, I'm going to go back down and make sure Dean and Seamus aren't murdering each other. I'll see you at dinner then. Better make something of it because we've got detention with Snape afterwards."

And with that Harry turned and walked out.

Neville let out a sigh of relief. He didn't even realize until just now that he still had his knife lightly grasped in his hand which lay perfectly still in his lap, only it wasn't in view from where Harry stood or at least he hoped it wasn't.

Now fairly certain that there wouldn't be any more interruptions, Neville brought the knife down to his arm and slowly dug it in.

He drew in a sharp breath as he dragged the blade across his skin. Blood began to ooze out of the cut and it pooled around either side of the blade. He watched in wonder as his blood began to trickle down his arm. It was_ so_ red against his pale skin. It was a reminder to himself that he was alive. As long as he bled he was real.

He lifted the knife and placed the blade right next to the cut he had just made. He could already feel any dread subsiding as the sharp tooth of the mysterious dagger bit through his skin again. He made an identical cut next to the first one and then another and another and another until eventually he had a row of five perfectly parallel cuts on his forearm. He loved how they looked against his skin _so red and so perfect_.

Neville made a few more cuts on his other arm before conclusively deciding that it was time to place the knife back in the top drawer of his dresser.

This was the problem Neville always encountered whenever he was cutting. Every time he started he never wanted to stop. He would almost have to force himself to stop at times by locking his knife away and making sure he was surrounding himself with his peers, where he would forget or find himself momentarily distracted and free from the calling of the blade.

Just one week ago after a particularly nasty cutting session he had stopped himself, not even bothering to tend to his wounds, and entered the common room to watch Harry and Ron play a game of wizard's chess. He knew that if he hadn't of gone out there he would have continued cutting until all of the blood had been drained from his body.

Sometimes this scared him and sometimes it didn't. Sometimes he couldn't care less how much damage he inflicted upon himself. As long as the sight of his own blood continued to ease the suffering he dealt with while simply living each day he would continue.

Once his blood began to spill, it never seemed to be enough and it was because of this that he couldn't even afford to wear short sleeves without the aid of a concealment charm and since he wasn't very gifted with charms, he preferred to just stick to wearing long sleeves.

Although when the weather begins to get hotter he imagined he'd want to start wearing short sleeves because what better way to bring unwanted attention to yourself by wearing sweaters during the summertime? Maybe Hermione would help him out with a concealment charm.

Suddenly, his thoughts took him back to the night before when Hermione had walked in on him cutting himself in the Gryffindor common room. She had been nearly traumatized by the whole thing. It was all his fault and she would probably never look at him the same ever again. She would probably think even less of him than she already did.

One thing he did remember though, was that when she had begun to heal his arms, she didn't look at them in disgust. She had only sighed and looked up at Neville with sad, tear-filled eyes.

He looked down at his forearms, which was where he chose to take out the brunt of his troubles. They were covered with scars. Some were old and scabbed over; some were new and fresh with a glaring redness that stung the eyes.

Neville reached over to his dresser to grab a few tissues, which he soon discovered wasn't going to be enough to clean up the mess. He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser and pulled out a white towel, or at least it _used_ to be white. The majority of it was now stained red with Neville's blood. Some areas of it were pinkish from older stains that had faded with time and other areas were tainted with fresh, dark blood.

He pressed the towel to his left arm and held it there.

'_How have things gotten to this point?'_ he wondered.

Neville removed the towel and placed it on the other arm before putting it back in the bottom drawer. He removed a roll of bandages, which he rarely ever used but he was bleeding enough now to where he figured he probably should.

His left arm was a lot worse off than his right so he decided that he would only wrap it. He ended up using all of the bandages on his arm and even that wasn't enough because he continued to bleed through the bandages a little.

He felt so much better, except for the fact that he had detention with Snape to face in a few hours. His whole mood had been boosted but it wouldn't last. The high he got from inflicting pain onto himself was only temporary and it wasn't very long after that he began to long for the feeling of the blade grazing his skin and ache with the desire to cut over and over and over again, until he was completely numb from head to toe.

Neville, finally feeling calm for the first time that day, fell back onto his bed and shut his eyes.

---------------------------------

**Authors Note:** Wow, once again sorry for the delay! I just keep forgetting about this story, then randomly I'll remember it and add a bit to it. Forget it again, come back to it! lol…but yeah, as you all can probably tell…this chapter is _incredibly _depressing but alas, I was in a very depressed mood when I wrote this chapter. Which honestly I think that makes for the better because when I'm upset, naturally Neville is upset…so I'm really getting a feel for how I want to mold Neville's character in this fic. Yeah, anyways I'm going to apologize right now for any more future mistakes I might make in this fic, (basically I forgot to put in the beginning that this is AU, I mean…this obviously isn't going to be anything like in the books…) so yeah which would mean that although Snape isn't potions master in HBP he is in my fic! haha. Anyways, read & review! Chapter 5 is up and ready...:)


	5. Detention with Snape

**Chapter 5:** Detention With Snape

Harry walked into the dungeon to find Neville leaning against the wall, staring off into space with a blank stare. Harry scanned the vicinity and there was no sign of Snape. _Yet_.

"How long have you been here?" Harry asked walking up to Neville.

Only Neville didn't notice Harry.

"Neville?" Harry laid a hand on Neville's shoulder and gently gave him a shake which caused Neville to jump.

"Oh, Harry…hi."

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Dunno, a few minutes maybe?"

"Has Snape been in yet?"

"No."

They both stood in silence until Harry cleared his throat.

"So…we missed you at dinner. Where were you?"

"Oh, I fell asleep…wasn't hungry anyways." Neville replied simply.

"Look Neville, if you're still upset about what happened earlier…"

"What are you talking about Harry?"

"Well, you know…what happened in potions and then what happened with Dean and Seamus earlier? And I mean the look on your face as they were pummeling each other…you just looked like you were going to be sick."

"Oh, well I just- I was taken by surprise, that's all. No big deal."

"Well, then what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Neville began a little too huffily. "I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping very well lately and detention with Snape is certainly not helping..."

"Oh," replied Harry. "Anything else bothering you then?"

"Errr- what do you mean?"

"I don't know…do you have anything else you need to get off your chest?"

"No…not really."

"Just out of curiosity…" started Harry, sneaking a quick side glance at the brunette, "and feel free to tell me off and that it's none of my business if I'm out of line in asking this but…what exactly was that all about with Dean earlier…when he told you to stay away from Ginny?"

Neville sighed.

"Look, Neville you don't have to tell me if you don't want…I was just curious because he seemed quite upset…"

"I just- he seems to have gotten the wrong idea about me and Ginny…you see, she came to me about a month ago wanting help with Herbology once a week and one thing lead to another and soon that turned into me tutoring her three to four times a week for a couple of hours and…but- nothing is going on between us. It's just a friend helping out another friend…"

"Do you like her though…?" Harry asked quietly.

Neville blushed.

"I-I _have _fancied her…but she has a boyfriend now. She's dating Dean…I would never…"

Harry felt an unexpected pang of jealousy thrust deep down inside of his very core; soon followed by a crushing flood of bitterness which erupted throughout his entire body. He couldn't shake this feeling, he had no idea where it had come from but all he knew was that it wasn't going to go away.

Ginny's beautiful face and fiery red hair suddenly appeared in Harry's mind. She threw her head back in laughter as her and Neville shared a private joke on the way to their spot, a tree they had been studying under. Her brown eyes were sparkling and fixed on Neville as they sat down and leaned against the large elm tree.

Harry could feel something moving inside of him, an impulsive force that sought to break free and seize Neville by the throat and strangle him.

Harry tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. He continued to nod as Neville spoke, although he had no idea what he was saying. Harry could hear nothing except for the low growl of the beast he felt inside of him.

Harry had suspected Neville may have liked Ginny, ever since he took her to the Yule ball in their fourth year. Also, the way he was so protective of her all the time, the way he stood up for her when members of Umbridge's Inquisitorial squad captured members of the D.A. Neville had fought to keep them from taking Ginny.

And at the Department of Mysteries he was always close by, keeping a steady eye on her and ever since then, whenever Ginny wasn't with Dean, she and Neville had almost been inseparable.

With recent rumors flying around Hogwarts that Dean and Ginny may be on the verge of breaking up, Harry was beginning to grow more increasingly worried that he wouldn't be able to make a move fast enough. Plus, now he also grew increasingly wary of the competition he now faced.

Harry's heart sank. Just the thought of Neville and Ginny…_together_…as a couple made Harry feel so angry. He wanted to just step right up to Neville now and lay a punch right in the middle of his face, maybe even causing his nose to break again, like it had in the Department of Mysteries.

Although deep down Harry knew that he would never really hurt Neville, nor did he want to. This was the beast's doing. The beast was making him think and feel things that he normally never would and this worried Harry. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep these horrible feelings at bay or how long he would be able to keep this wild beast restrained.

"Look Harry…I just want you to know how sorry I am for all of this…I feel really awful…I mean if I could I'd serve detention double if it would get you out of this but I don't think Snape would go for that…"

"Just never mind it," replied Harry, trying his best to force a grin.

Neville sighed.

"Neville, it's okay, really."

"No Harry, it isn't. I'm going to make it up to you. Somehow I will."

'_Yeah, I've got a way you can make it up to me…don't go after Ginny when her and Dean break up…'_ thought Harry scornfully.

"Potter, Longbottom, grab a cauldron and get to work. Instructions on what you need to brew this potion is on this parchment. You will remain in here working promptly and silently. When you have completed the potion you will take the contents of the potion and pour it into these containers. Then you will go into the supply room and give all of the equipment a thorough cleaning, _without_ magic. Then after you finish with that you are to report to me for further instructions. There is to be no talking, no snagging, and no leaving this room at any time for any reason- have I made myself clear?"

"Yes _sir,_" replied Harry through gritted teeth.

"And you, Longbottom?"

"Yes Professor." Neville gulped.

Harry and Neville both grabbed a cauldron and walked back to their table.

"Now, I suggest you get started because you will not be leaving until every single task has been completed to the highest of your abilities...which with you Longbottom should take quite a while and fall quite short…"

Neville blushed and allowed his cauldron to drop onto the table with a loud clunk.

"Careful with that Longbottom, it's expensive!" hissed Snape.

Harry glared at Snape. True, only a few seconds ago he had been feeling less than charitable towards Neville but he really didn't deserve to be treated like this.

The next thing they knew Snape had snatched both of their wands from their unsuspecting hands and quickly turned and treaded out of the dungeons, the heavy doors crashing shut behind him.

The whole mood of the dungeon was brought down, if at all possible even more than usual. An instant chill began to settle over everything and a feeling of discomfort came over both Harry and Neville.

"I hate that stupid, greasy git…" muttered Harry.

"Me too." Neville agreed.

"You know, Neville…you really shouldn't allow him to talk to you like that…despite what you may think, you don't deserve it…"

Neville looked up at Harry.

"What am I supposed to do about it Harry? Snape hates me, he always has and he always will. Nothing I say or do is ever going to change that…so I just figure I might as well put up with it until…well, neither of us will have to put up with him much longer. Just one more year and then hopefully we'll never have to see him again…"

Harry couldn't help but smile at his forgetful and clumsy dorm mate. When it came to enemies, Neville didn't seem to hold any type of hate or resentment towards them like Harry did, and in a way, Harry respected that about Neville.

Also, no matter what kinds of bad things continued to happen to Neville, he always managed to stay so… composed. In fact, Harry couldn't even think of one instance in all of the time that he had known Neville where he had ever lost his temper or raised his voice to anyone.

If it were Harry instead of Neville that Snape was saying all of these unpleasant things to, he would probably be sitting in Azkaban right now for attempted murder or the intent to cause severe bodily harm.

"Well, I guess we'd better get started then," said Harry miserably.

Harry and Neville both began gathering their ingredients and wasted no time getting started on their potions.

---------------------------------

Neville reached up and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. When he and Harry began their detention it had been rather cold but now since they had been put to work they were beginning to sweat.

"_Finally_…I thought we'd _never_ finish!" exclaimed Harry as he finished polishing the last cauldron and fell back onto the floor.

About three hours and forty five minutes had passed since they first began their detention and they were already feeling dead. It hadn't taken them nearly as long as they had predicted it would to clean all of the equipment but the fact that they had to do it without magic just made it_ that_ much harder and more frustrating on them.

"Neville, murder me…please," groaned Harry. "I don't think I can take a whole 'nother week of this!"

"I'm sorry, Harry…this is all entirely my fault."

"Neville, stop. You've got to quit blaming yourself for everything…it's my own fault for being here by not paying close enough attention in potions…basically, it's every man for himself in there. So, I am taking responsibility for my own actions."

"S-sorry…" mumbled Neville.

"Potter! Longbottom!"

"Oh great…he's back," moaned Harry.

Harry and Neville stood up and walked back into the dungeon.

"I specifically said to report to me when you were finished, did I not?"

"Yes Professor but-" began Harry.

"Instead I come in here to find that the dungeon has been turned into a disaster area, which with you present Longbottom I don't find this all that surprising."

Neville felt his face grow hot.

Harry bit down on his tongue, _hard_.

"Professor, we were just about to come get you. We literally just finished cleaning all of_ your_ equipment in the supply room, like you told us to do. Seeing as we were without magic the process kind of took a _little_ longer than we would have liked."

"Don't give me any more lip Potter or your week's worth of detention will double," barked Snape as he walked over to the supply room and stuck his head inside to scrutinize their work.

He turned around and walked back to his desk and began to inspect the potions they had made. Snape began drumming his fingers on his desk and continued to stare at their potions; both were dull and copper colored.

"Well, well, well, it looks as though you both followed my directions to the very last drop," Snape replied quietly and without enthusiasm. His delivery of their success was simple yet he still had a scowl on his face, almost as though he was greatly disturbed and disappointed by the fact that they had both not failed in messing up the potion.

"Professor, what exactly_ is _that potion that you had us make?"

"Do _not_ ask questions Potter. Do not speak unless spoken to. Now, I want both of you to clean up this mess, put everything back the way it was and then leave. You will come here immediately after dinner for the rest of the week to finish serving out your detentions. I will be keeping your wands with me until tomorrow morning so you won't be tempted to cheat your way through this detention. You can come retrieve them from me after breakfast…oh and don't forget, your essays are to be in my hands tomorrow night precisely at eight o'clock sharp."

And without another word Snape scowled at them one last time and quickly turned and walked out of the dungeon.

"I _really_ hate him," growled Harry under his breath.

Neville walked over to the supply room and returned with a bunch of towels. He and Harry began cleaning up their mess by hand. Finally after about twenty or thirty minutes they were finished.

"I can't believe he is keeping our wands until tomorrow morning…he could just keep them until we are finished with everything and then give them back…" began Neville. "I mean, what if we ended up needing them?"

"Snape doesn't give a shit," answered Harry.

They both stood back and admired their work. They were finally finished.

"Wow, I don't know about you but I'm beat. I don't even want to know what he has in store for us tomorrow," Harry replied through a yawn. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Although the dungeons were now so spotless that you could see your reflection staring back at you from practically any corner of the room, one _minor_ detail remained unattended.

"Whoa!" Neville cried out as he slipped and fell _hard, _landing on his back.

"Yeah…I guess we could have spent a _little _more time on drying the floors…" replied Harry with a chuckle. He made his way over to Neville, being extra careful to step over the wet spots and held out his hand for Neville to grab. Harry pulled him up, only this caused Neville's sleeve to shift revealing a slightly bloodied and bandaged arm.

---------------------------------

**Authors Note:** Dun Dun Dun!!! Don't you just love cliff hangers? I don't! Muhahahaw! Yeah I figured I might as well go ahead and put up this chapter as well since I have no idea if and when I'll update again. I suppose the more reviews I get the more likely I will be to remember about this fic! lol. So yeah, poor Neville. :( Read and Review please :)


	6. The secret's out

**Chapter 6:** The Secret's Out

Silence.

Harry stood staring with wide eyes at Neville's arm.

"Neville, what happened?" asked Harry. He felt extremely ill at ease as he stared down at Neville's bandaged arm.

Neville jumped back away from Harry and shook his robes so that the sleeve fell back into place.

And then, more silence.

"Oh, this?" Neville replied chuckling nervously, looking down at his arm. "This is nothing…" he continued, shrugging off his injury, "…you should have seen what that damn _Devil's fang_ did to me when I was in the greenhouse last week…"

'_Oh, how could you be so stupid? Harry's not foolish enough to believe that load of crock!'_

Neville held his breath and waited.

"Oh, well, you better be more careful with those plants mate…" warned Harry in a low, serious tone.

The way Harry was staring was making Neville uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and started walking towards the doors.

"Right," started Neville awkwardly, turning around to face Harry, "shall we get going then…before I pass out?"

---------------------------------

"I'm telling you Hermione, he was acting _really_ weird…I can't quite put my finger on it but something is definitely not right with him lately."

Over an hour had passed since Harry and Neville returned to the Gryffindor common room from their detention. As soon as they got back Neville went directly to the boys' dormitories to go to bed. Now Harry and Hermione were the only two left in the common room where they had been quietly discussing the day's events.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, trying to make it seem as if she had no idea what was going on. She hoped that the worry in her voice didn't give away that she was already quite aware of something going on with Neville.

"Well, for one, when I first got to the dungeon to serve detention, Neville was already there. He was just standing up against the wall, staring off into space and then when I began talking to him, it's like he was somewhere else. I had to shake him to get him to even notice me."

"Hmmm, that is strange," replied Hermione.

"Yeah, also he was just really quiet and detached the whole time, even more so than usual."

"Did he say anything to you that could indicate what's wrong?"

"Not really," replied Harry with a sigh, "we didn't talk a whole lot."

"I'm kind of worried about him too," started Hermione. "I mean he looks sick. There is obviously _something_ awful going on with him that is eating him up inside."

Harry watched Hermione for a few moments, she seemed unusually stressed. Harry could tell just by looking at her that something was troubling her, her body was just emanating nerves.

He could sense the tension in her muscles from miles away and the concern on her face was evident by the faint worry lines that were embedded in her skin. Harry could tell she was deep in thought because her hands, along with the rest of her, were unmoving. She was gently biting her lip, staring into the fire.

Harry cleared his throat and Hermione looked up. He quickly looked away and brought a hand up, running it through his unruly black hair.

Hermione knew this look very well, it meant that there was something he wanted to tell her but wasn't sure whether he should or not.

"When we were cleaning up…" he began cautiously, observing Hermione to see if he should press on, "he slipped on some wet spots on the floor that we hadn't taken the time to dry properly…and when I went to help him up I saw that his left arm had been bleeding, as if he had just hurt it recently. It was all bandaged up. I asked him what happened and he started acting kind of edgy…told me that it was nothing and that it happened in the greenhouse."

Harry watched as all the color drained from Hermione's face.

"_What_?" she whispered.

"Yeah…I mean, it makes sense considering how accident-prone he is," Harry continued, "but I'm not sure I believe him…I mean, for one Herbology_ is_ his best subject. So if anyone would know how to deal with those plants it's him…"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. She felt so angry towards Neville right now, how could he break his promise?

"You're right not to believe him Harry," she replied flatly.

"What do you mean?"

Hermione stared impassively into the cackling fire and without so much as a breath she continued.

"What happened to him wasn't an accident," she murmured bleakly, not taking her eyes off of the flames, "he did that to himself."

Harry's stomach dropped.

"What? Hermione, there must be some logical explanation…Neville would never-"

"I've seen him, Harry..." she interrupted, speaking in the same dangerously low, austere tone. "When I left Honeydukes early because I had a headache…I came back here and found him sitting right here on this chair, in front of this fire," Hermione stopped and allowed for a few moments of silence to settle in before she continued.

"He was too busy slicing his arms up with this _gigantic_ dagger to notice me come in," she continued, finally tearing her eyes away from the bright and enchanting flames that danced before her to meet Harry's eyes, which were wide with bewilderment and dismay.

Hermione felt a slight pang of guilt stab at her but she ignored it, just like Neville had ignored everything they talked about on that night, just like he had ignored his promise.

"What did you do?" asked Harry softly.

"I was just in shock. I asked him why…and he said he didn't know. I asked him how long…and he said for awhile. I told him that he should talk to Dumbledore and that he could help him but he didn't want to. I told him that as long as he promised never to do it again that I'd promise never to tell…"

"So…then, you're going to tell Dumbledore _now_, right?"

Hermione didn't answer, instead she began staring into the fire again, allowing the dancing flames to lure her into a trance.

"Hermione?"

"I don't know, Harry," she replied coolly.

"Do you want me to try and-" Harry stopped mid-sentence and listened. He could have sworn he heard light footsteps descending down the staircase and he was right.

A few moments later Neville appeared at the bottom, clad in his blue and white striped pajamas.

"Oh," he mumbled with a small grin, "I thought everyone was asleep by now."

"What are you doing up?" Harry asked, trying to keep his composure and make it seem as though he and Hermione weren't just having a serious discussion about him.

"I couldn't sleep…I was just going to come down here and relax for a bit, maybe catch up on some reading…or…errr start that essay for Snape…"

Seeing as how Neville didn't have any books with him, Hermione gave Harry a piercing glance.

"But uh, I'm sorry if I interrupted something…I'll just go ahead and go back up to bed…"

"No, you haven't interrupted anything Neville," began Hermione. "Why don't you join us? The more the merrier. Come on and sit down."

Neville walked over and plopped himself down on the couch, since Harry and Hermione were in the armchairs. The first thing Neville noticed was that Harry and Hermione were still in their school clothes, which meant neither of them had been to bed yet.

"Oh, Neville before I forget…I talked to Ginny while you and Harry were in detention and she wanted me to remind you about your study session tomorrow…errr, actually today after lunch…"

Harry felt a pang jealousy begin to rise to the surface again.

Neville slapped his hand to his forehead.

"Argh, I completely forgot. We might have to reschedule because I'm going to be working on the rest of that essay for Snape most of today…I got a little bit of it started though…what about you, Harry?"

"Hmmm? Oh, no…I was actually going to ask if you wanted to work on it together…you know, we could help each other along and maybe get done faster…"

"Alright."

"See, all it takes is teamwork, with that you can do anything." Hermione replied.

"Right…" said Harry.

"It's true! Look at how much you, Ron and I have accomplished over the years…" she began. "If you want…I can assist both of you to help you get those essays finished even faster. Then you know, you could have a few hours to spare before your detention with Snape…"

"Want to help?" began Harry. "Then how about you just write them for us?"

"What good would that do either of you? The best thing to do would be to just do the best you can and write them yourselves…because Snape isn't an idiot, he'd know if either of you didn't write your own essays…"

It was just after two thirty in the morning and none of them showed any signs of being tired yet. Hermione reached down into her knapsack and pulled out a ton of books, blank parchment, ink and quills and set them down on the coffee table.

"I decided I would save both of you the trouble of having to go to the library and locate all of the sources you would need. I checked out every book and article that refers to Veritaserum so everything you need to write your essays is right here. While you are both already sitting down here wide awake you might as well make good use of this time and get started. Even if you don't get halfway finished before breakfast, at least you'll have actually written _something_ down."

It was times like this that Harry truly felt as if he could just grab Hermione and kiss her right on the mouth. She always managed to pull through for him, especially when he was on a tight deadline.

"Wow, thanks Hermione! You've saved us so much time…we probably would have wasted at least an hour trying to locate all of the sources in the library…" said Harry.

"Yeah, thank you Hermione…" Neville chimed in. "This was so considerate of you…"

Hermione wrapped an arm around both Gryffindor boys and smiled.

"Anything for you two and now, you can repay me by not wasting anymore time and getting started writing. I want you both to be able to have plenty of time to relax before Snape runs you down again."

"Hermione, Ron was right. You really are the greatest," replied Harry.

Hermione suddenly grew tightlipped at the mention of Ron.

"Well," she began, standing up and stretching, "I think I'm off to bed…it's rather late. I'll leave you two to work on your essays…if you get tired be sure to take a break. Good night."

And with that Hermione disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dorms.

Harry and Neville took Hermione's advice and got started right away. They both worked in silence for the next hour.

"Wow, my hand is really cramping up, how about yours?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, it is."

"I guess this would be a good time for a break, eh?"

"Well, actually Harry. I uh- think I might go back up and try to sleep for a couple of hours before breakfast…" mumbled Neville, as if he were talking only to himself, "…it's been a long night."

"Oh," began Harry with disappointment. "I was hoping you could keep me company…but if you are too tired and don't want to I understand."

"Alright…I uh, I guess I could put the sleep off for another time," answered Neville as he stuck a quill inside one of the library books to mark his page.

Harry turned to look at the other boy and suddenly felt guilty for ever harboring any negativity towards him. Neville was such a kind person who would never wish or cause harm to anyone, except maybe Bellatrix Lestrange. He was always so soft-spoken, selfless, polite and loyal. He was always doing nice things for everyone around him and he never expected or even wanted anything in return.

But no matter how hard Harry tried he still could not force away the hostility he felt towards Neville whenever he mentioned Ginny or whenever he saw them together. Whether they were walking down the halls together, sitting near each other during meals or even studying.

He just simply could not stand the thought of either one of them secretly carrying a torch for the other. He couldn't take it and he tried not to think about it but it was rapidly consuming him and he didn't think he'd be able to put on a happy face for much longer. It was just something he couldn't control but for now, it would have to wait. He had more important things he needed to discuss with Neville.

Neville could see that the other boy was deep in thought.

"What's on your mind?" Neville asked.

"Neville, can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure…"

"And be honest with me…okay?"

"Of course, Harry…"

"Earlier…when we were in detention…your arm…did that _really_ happen in the greenhouse?"

Neville's heart stopped and his mind went blank.

"Are you okay? You don't look so well…maybe you should, lie down…"

"No," Neville whispered, "I'm fine…"

"Look, Neville…I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable and I'm not going to push you into talking about anything you don't want to…but I was talking to Hermione before you came down and she told me that what happened to you wasn't an accident…"

---------------------------------

**Author's Note:** Dun, dun, dun! Another cliffhanger! Once again sorry for the delay…I've been distracted with other things but recently I've had more time on my hands so I decided to update a few things, this being one…:) So anyways let me know what you think, read & review! The more reviews the better :)


	7. Chaos Cometh

**Chapter 7:**

"…_but I was talking to Hermione before you came down and she told me that what happened to you wasn't an accident…"_

The last part of Harry's sentence kept echoing in Neville's head. His heart began to pick up speed and he could feel his senses begin to heighten with panic. He was on edge and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hide it.

Harry was already staring at him with _that_ look. The look one gives someone else when they don't quite know what is going on or what to do or say and are a little set-off by the peculiar-ness of their behavior.

With each second that ticked by without a word, Neville's heart began to beat faster and faster, pounding against his chest, threatening to burst.

'_Oh god, he knows…'_

Neville stood up and began pacing around the common room. He could feel the panic beginning to set in. He could feel the panic coming on and taking hold of him.

'_No, not now!_'

His body started to feel heavy and he felt a weird tingling sensation in his head that ran all the way down to his toes. His throat began to close up and his breathing began to pick up. It got a little faster, a little deeper.

He began to feel dizzy.

Harry was beginning to catch on that something was not right and he watched the other boy with worried eyes. He stood up and began walking towards Neville.

"Neville…what's wrong?"

Neville didn't answer because he was finding it harder to breath. He tried to find something to focus on to take his mind off of what was happening.

"Neville?" Harry called again.

Although Harry was only a few inches away from Neville now, his voice sounded distant, as if he were shouting at him from across the common room.

A few more minutes passed and the overbearing fear that had draped itself over Neville had finally lifted and passed. Neville looked up to meet Harry's anxious gaze, his green eyes were searching Neville's brown ones for some kind of an answer.

Neville gave Harry the tiniest trace of a smile and shrugged.

"S-sorry…panic attack."

"Yeah, I've had those before…when I lived with the Dursley's mainly…so listen, what Hermione and I were talking about…" Harry paused and continued to observe the other boy, who now had sat down and placed his head in his hands. "I just want to know…if what she told me was true…"

Neville didn't answer so Harry pressed on.

"If something is bothering you, you can always talk to me, Hermione, Ron, Luna…" Harry stopped himself for a moment, "or Ginny…" he tried not to convey on his face what he felt inside at the sound of Ginny's name coming out of his mouth.

Harry sighed. He was getting nowhere.

"Whatever it is that you are going through, you don't have to go through it alone…you have all of us…"

"Harry," Neville finally spoke. "What all did Hermione say to you exactly?"

"Uhhh, just that she was worried about you…and of course that what happened to your arm wasn't an accident. She told me that she walked in on you-"

"She's right as usual."

"But, why Neville?"

"I don't know…" he mumbled, just like he had to Hermione.

The two teenage boys sat in silence. Neville was staring off into space, wearing the same blank expression he wore earlier when Harry first found him in the dungeon before detention. Harry was staring at Neville with a mixture of what looked to be pity, uncertainty and genuine concern.

"Look," began Harry hesitantly, "if you don't want to talk about this…it's fine. I'm not going to pressure you or force you to talk to me but are you going to be _okay_?"

Neville suddenly snapped out of his vacant stupor and brought his eyes to meet Harry's.

Neville opened his mouth to speak but instead, a small crackle escaped his throat. He was developing a serious case of dry mouth. He licked his lips and turned his gaze down to his hands.

"I'm sorry…" replied Harry.

Neville immediately looked up and narrowed his eyes curiously on the other boy.

"What for…?" he asked softly, suddenly finding his voice. "You haven't done anything Harry. I'm the one who is sorry…you know, for everything that I've ever done wrong around you. Oh, and of course detention with Snape-"

"No," interrupted Harry. "I'm sorry for letting you go on like this…this is my fault. I had no idea things were this bad for you. I should have paid more attention…"

"Harry," Neville started with a small chuckle, "what makes you think things are so bad for me and where in the world would you get the idea that anything involving me is_ your_ fault? You need to listen to your own advice and quit blaming yourself for the things that aren't your fault, the things that are far beyond your control. I refuse to become one of those things. You've been a good friend Harry…a great friend…but you can't save everyone…"

"But…Neville, I've known you for over 5 years! We've all been dorm mates for so long...me, you, Ron, Seamus, and Dean. I mean if not them then_ I_ should have at least known that you were feeling down. I should have sensed it…we all should have…"

"No." Neville stated quietly. "I didn't want anyone to sense anything. I was just fine with the way things were. I was dealing with things just fine…there was no way any of you should have known what was going on and even if there was, there would have been nothing you could have done to stop it…"

"But why…?"

"Why what?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at his formerly round-faced friend.

"Why wouldn't there have been anything any of us could have done to stop you from hurting yourself?"

Neville paused and thought about this for a moment.

"Because…in order for someone to stop doing something they have to want to stop…"

Harry let out a low sigh.

"So you _really_ cut yourself then…?"

Neville cringed at how easily the word _cut_ slid off of Harry's tongue, unlike Hermione who was extremely uncomfortable with the word in this context.

Neville said nothing at first but instead just stared hard at Harry. As if sizing him up to see whether or not he should confide in him about this or whether he should just try and play this off as nothing and get on with his life.

He knew he could trust Harry but something about Harry knowing _this_ about him terrified him and made him feel naked. It was bad enough that Hermione already knew his secret and not only that but that she had actually caught him red handed. Just_ thinking_ back to that night was enough to make Neville want to vomit.

"Don't tell anyone…" Neville mumbled, staring down at the floor. "Please, just…don't tell anyone…" he repeated softly in a nearly inaudible whisper. Neville looked up at Harry with dark, pleading eyes.

Harry's eyebrows rose and for a split second his face went from being confused and concerned to slightly surprised. He already knew that Neville's injury wasn't an accident as Hermione had confirmed just a little bit ago but actually hearing Neville admit to this, having heard straight from his own mouth that this was true really set the whole reality of this situation into Harry's perception.

Neville Longbottom took all of his failures and frustrations and turned them inward towards himself where he would hold everything inside, only to release it all by cutting himself open; and the fact that he found comfort in this, rather than in those around him who cared about him made it all the more heartbreaking.

"I won't…" promised Harry.

Silence washed over the common room and the two Gryffindor boys didn't know what to do or say next.

"So…" Harry began slowly, "that one time…last year when Dean and I walked into the dorm and you- the blood…that wasn't from a bloody nose…was it?"

Neville felt his face grow hot.

"No…" he mumbled.

"Wow, I just can't believe you managed to hide this for so long…how long have you been cutting yourself?"

Neville cringed.

"Uhhh, for awhile…"

"How long is awhile?"

"Since I was 12."

The answer had easily rolled off of Neville's tongue this time unlike with Hermione. For some reason he felt more comfortable talking to Harry. With Hermione he had just felt like he was being interrogated which only caused him to become more of a wreck.

"Jeeze…" replied Harry, completely stunned. "Does your Gran know?"

"Well, not exactly. You see…there was a close call once, last summer actually. She walked into my room without knocking and began gathering up my laundry and questioned me about some bloodstains on a couple of my shirts…so I told her I had a bloody nose and she made a comment about how that was too much blood to be from a bloody nose…and she thought that I had accidentally hurt myself but was too afraid to tell her so she demanded that I take off my shirt so she could check me over. So, she…she saw some of the marks on me and I told her that fell into a _Prickleshub _plant out in the garden. I don't know if she believed me or not but she never made mention of it again…"

"Have you ever thought about telling her?"

"No. I never want her to know…which is why no one else can know…because if any of the Professors ever found out the first thing they would do is owl my Gran…and this would kill her…"

"Have you ever tried to stop?"

"No."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Neville suddenly found himself growing slightly annoyed with Harry's consistent questioning, which it was a rare occurrence for Neville to get annoyed with_ anyone_, especially Harry.

"It's hard to explain…"

"Oh," replied Harry.

"I mean…it's not something I'm proud of or anything…"

"How did you start?"

Harry watched as another deep blush set in on the other boy's face and he quickly uttered an apology.

"I'm sorry how intrusive of me…you don't have to answer that…"

Neville stared into the fire for a few minutes, soaking in the silence. He then turned and looked Harry dead in the eye.

"The summer after our first year at Hogwarts was miserable…my Gran was on me every single day about gaining proper wizard techniques and strengthening my knowledge because she was so happy when we all discovered I wasn't a squib. So when I came home with less than satisfactory grades she was upset…saying that I might as well have been a squib since I wasn't much better at being a wizard. I tried so hard to make her happy but nothing I ever did was good enough. Then one night that summer we were visiting my parents at St. Mungo's and Gran was upset because the nurses were hounding her about looking into other possible living arrangements for them because the hospital needed to make room for other patients coming in…"

Neville paused and let out a sigh. He returned his gaze back to the fire and slightly hesitated before continuing.

"…and so after we got home Gran started drinking and sometimes when she would get a few drinks in her…she would tend to say things she didn't mean but she looked me right in the eye and said, _'Neville, do you not realize what your parents have sacrificed for you? Why have you failed to be more like them and live up to the Longbottom name rather than bring shame upon it? You need to be more aggressive and get your head out of that damn garden and into some books. Your grades this year were not high enough. You will not get anywhere in life with grades like those and that is a promise. It is times like these when I am glad your parents are unable to see their only son struggling with the most simple of things. They would be gravely disappointed in your lack of progress.'_"

Neville paused and then continued.

"I remember she sat there…waiting for me to respond, waiting for me to nod in agreement but I didn't. I remember just walking up to my room and wanting to die. I just felt_ so_ stupid and like I was doomed to be a failure for the rest of my life. I don't think I could have ever gotten any lower than I was at that point. I mean any lower and I'd have been dead. I was so ashamed, so humiliated…and I felt so worthless. I remember not being angry at my Gran…but at my parents. I was angry at them for being the way they were, if they weren't insane I wouldn't be living with Gran. I remember just feeling so angry that I picked up the only picture I have of my parents and just threw it across my room. It broke of course, so I went over and began picking up the pieces of glass and I remember holding one…and for a split second I began to think about how stunning that shard of glass looked and I began to wonder how it would look and feel sliding across my skin…so I did it…and I felt better after doing it and that was that…"

Harry sat there and stared at his dorm mate in disbelief.

"Wow…" he finally spoke, "I don't know what to say…"

"That's alright," replied Neville, who was now closely examining his fingernails and chomping nervously away at them.

Harry could do nothing more than just stare at Neville in awe. Only about ten minutes ago he had looked like he was ten seconds from a nervous breakdown and now, strangely enough he looked…at ease.

Harry had never really noticed before but Neville was actually a pretty decent looking bloke. Neville's looks had always been undermined and underestimated in their previous years because of his awkward, geeky, clumsy and forgetful demeanor. Oh and unfortunately the fact that he had always been a bit chubby had most likely played a part in that as well.

Harry thought back to when he first met Neville over five years ago on the Hogwarts express. Neville had been the shy, scared and forgetful round-faced boy who had lost his toad. The boy who sat in front of Harry now was a far cry from that boy he first met on the train.

Neville was now very thin, in fact _too_ thin. All traces of any extra pudge his frame held the year before had melted away and he was now left with gangly limbs and a long torso. He had also grown at least four or five inches and was now the same height as Ron and Dean.

His hair was a mess. It looked as if it hadn't been cut in ages. It was a long, curly heap that just lay unbrushed on his head. It was hanging in his eyes, which were barely visible. What Harry could see of his eyes though were dark and dead.

Harry thought that Neville was still attractive but that he just looked worn down. He could still see a glint of the round-faced boy he first met on the train, with his lonely dark eyes that looked as if they belonged to an abandoned puppy.

Harry had also never noticed that Neville had freckles all over his nose and cheeks along with a dimple in his chin. His eyes moved down from Neville's freckles to his lips. They were nice. Nice and plump and _soft_. Harry bet they were really soft.

Harry's eyes traveled down a bit further to Neville's exposed neck and saw that there was a small mole near his collarbone. Harry suddenly felt the urge to go over there and kiss all the way down Neville's neck.

Harry's heart skipped a beat and then began beating again with vengeance.

'_Oh god…'_

He shook his head and tried to think about something else, _anything_ else.

Neville saw Harry watching him out of the corner of his eye and turned his eyes towards him.

"Harry?"

Harry's heart began to beat faster and his palms were sweating.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you looking at me like that…?"

"Sorry," mumbled Harry, "I was just daydreaming…"

"Oh…well, I say we'd better get to bed eh? 'Least for a couple hours…we have a long day ahead of us."

Harry nodded slowly as Neville stood up. He wanted to follow but he couldn't move.

"Are you coming, Harry?

"Yeah, you go on ahead…I'll be up in a minute…"

Neville nodded in return and then disappeared up the stairs.

Now it was Harry's turn to panic. He couldn't believe this was happening.

That night, Harry Potter discovered that he had feelings not for Ginny Weasley but instead, for _Neville Longbottom_.

---------------------------------

**Author's Note: **Eh? Eh? -**-**nudges readers**-- **How'd I do? Bet you weren't expecting _that_ to happen were you? Meh, who knows…maybe you were and maybe you weren't. I was trying hard to make it like this huge shocking, twist…meh, don't know if I fooled any of you but anyways...This fic has been on hiatus for awhile now and I literally just started to pick it up again so chapter 8 doesn't even exist yet, lol. Since it's summer and I have nothing better to do I will try to write chapter 8 and get it up for you a.s.a.p.! Anyways, thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic! Keep reading and don't forget to read & review :)


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